


Wherever You Are Is Where You Should Be

by nevercomestheday



Category: Saturday Night Live, Saturday Night Live RPF
Genre: Cute, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash, Sparley, sort of pre-slash anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevercomestheday/pseuds/nevercomestheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David has a blind date tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherever You Are Is Where You Should Be

**Author's Note:**

> My first present-tense fic in AGES.

 David has a date tonight.

 

“Come on, man, you've been here almost a year now and I haven't seen you with anybody! You'll like this girl, promise. She's a model,” Rob raved the Monday before.

 

It's hard to remember the girl's name. Annette? Amanda? It's something with an A.

Rob described her as mid-height, thin, and blonde, but that wouldn't help. David's never been much good with descriptions.

He paces the room, biting his lip. He has an hour before he has to leave.

 

“You can go to that sushi place a few blocks from 30 Rock. It'll be great, trust me.”

David isn't big on raw fish, but he says yes anyway.

 

He thinks about what Rob said, about being here a year and not dating anyone. He tries to reason with that.

It's been a year.

It swirls around his mind like ice in a glass. Finally, he justifies it- he's just now settling into the city, and he's been really busy at work trying to find his place on the show.

 

That's mostly true.

 

David has been spending a lot of time at work, especially the past few months. He always tells himself it's so he can get more done, but the opposite always seems to happen. His late Tuesday nights have become less and less fruitful as the weeks have gone by.

It's not that he doesn't start out with good intentions, because he always has. Somewhere along the line, he gets distracted.

Distracted isn't even the right word. Entranced is more like it, or maybe enchanted. Somewhere between sitting down at his desk and going home in the morning, his mind goes to mush and nothing gets done.

Sometimes he catches himself mid-trance, realizing he's spent an hour and a half laughing and watching his office mate goof off.

Just because he notices it doesn't mean he stops himself.

 

He shakes his head and pulls his shoes on. Forty minutes left.

 

The funny thing about this date is that he isn't even nervous. He doesn't usually get very anxious about dates in the first place, but he doesn't feel anything at all this time. No excitement, no butterflies, not even a smile.

He can't shake the daydreamy feeling he's been in all day. His mind keeps going back to Chris.

 

Thirty-five minutes until his date, and the phone rings. At first, he doesn't want to answer- he's not in the mood to hear Rob gush more about this girl.

The machine picks it up, and he hears Chris's voice. Before the thought registers, he's picked up the phone.

 

“Hey, Dave, you free?”

 

Within moments, David is walking to Chris's apartment. He isn't really walking. It's more of a half-run.

 

Suddenly, his stomach is full of swarming butterflies and his heart feels warm and glowing. He puts a hand to his face and finds he's smiling.

 

“Hey, it's me,” and he's buzzed in.

 

Somehow it's midnight. He's laughing so hard his sides sting. Chris has him pinned to the ground.

 

“You lose again! How many times until you give up, Davey? Face it, you'll never beat me at wrestling!”

 

David knows that. He knew that the moment he met Chris. He's not wrestling to win. He's wrestling to be pinned, and though he doesn't quite understand why, he loves it.

 

Finally, out of breath but still laughing, the guys sit down on Chris's mattress. His apartment is a sorry, empty little thing, but it never seems to register in his head.

 

“So, didn't you have a date tonight?” Chris asks, grinning. He's known all along.

“Oh, I guess I did,” David says carelessly. “Oh well. Rob seemed to like her, so I canceled.” That's a lie, and they both know it.

 

An hour later and they're still on the mattress, now talking much more quietly. It's getting late, but sleep is the farthest thing from David's mind.

 

“You don't have a girlfriend, do you?” David finds the words in his mouth, and his butterflies turn to a swarm of wasps ready to sting.

 

“Nah.” Chris nudges David gently, and the room is warm and safe again.

 

One more hour passes, and now they're fighting sleep. David doesn't want to leave, but fears he may have to.

 

“You wanna watch a movie?” Chris's eyes twinkle with hope.

 

Chris's tape of Ghostbusters is at the halfway mark. David is dozing off on his shoulder. Just as Chris begins to snore, he snakes an arm around David and pulls him in close.

 

David falls asleep with a smile on his face.

 

In the morning, they wake up spooning. David wakes up first, about an hour before Chris, and spends that time quietly enjoying his position.

 

When Chris wakes, he chuckles softly and sits up, stretching. He gets up to have breakfast, bringing David back a banana.

David eats slowly.

 

It's noon, and David finally gets around to leaving. He goes to say goodbye and finds himself engulfed in a hug. He inhales deeply, but says nothing of the time they've spent.

 

He returns home to find his answering machine light blinking angrily, just as he'd expected. He presses play and walks to the kitchen to get some water.

 

Rob had left him seven angry messages, but they just make David laugh.

At the end of the last ranting message, a new one tacked on the end of the tape begins to play.

 

Chris's voice comes on, and though he wasn't expecting it, David is instantly soothed.

 

“Hey, Dave, it's Chris. Just wanted to know if you want to come by later tonight. I, uh, had a nice time with you. Hope your date doesn't reschedule. Call me back.”

 

David catches himself laughing, because he's already dialed Chris's number by the time the answering machine clicks off.

 

 


End file.
